Back to the Moulin Rouge
by DiamondDust24
Summary: Follows Christian one year after Satine's death to the one place that he longed to avoid. Along the way he meets someone else who shows him that the love he lost with Satine was never really lost. UPDATED REGULARLY but ive been really busy lately so updat
1. One Year Later

_Christian finds himself a year later still living in Montmarte unwillingly holding onto the memory of Satine. It is early fall of the year 1900 and on a not so very special day he sits down at his typewriter to tell the sad story about the love he lost… _

He remembered that day all too well. That last fateful day when everything that had made his world finally complete, died right there in his arms.Christian could still hear the roar of the audience cheerfully clapping in acceptance of the play, all oblivious to what was actually happening behind the curtian. It was in that place that she left that night, her last breath drawn within inches of his own face. Closing his eyes, he let one subtle tear streak down his cheek as he replayed this image in his mind. The window of his apartment was wide open letting a belated summer wind blow in across the room filling it with a bittersweet scent that almost made him feel at peace for a only but a moment. But only almost.

Taking a breath, he typed the last 2 words of his story which read, "The End." and that was that. With his story now finished, Christian hoped that whatever had taken control over him the past year would just let him be at peace. If only that could ever be a reality. Christian was never going to be Christian again. Not when the one person he had lived for all his life had left him to rot in this miserable world alone.

A part of him felt overjoyed that he had kept his promise to her; his love Satine. Before she had slipped away into darkness she told him, "Tell our story Christian, tell our story and that way I'll always be with you…" And that's just what he did. A year after her death on that petal covered stage, he sat in front of his Underwood typewriter and wrote. For hours he click, click, clicked letting every angry emotion he felt for her passing away pound into each key, each word, each page. "The End." he repeated silently. He couldn't believe it. It was done. He had finished the story. Yet, why did he still feel so miserable? Why did he feel even emptier?

Christian let out another sigh and got up to look out his window. So much had changed in a year.The town itself seemed to mirror what Christian was feeling himself. Ragged drunks lined the streets singing meloncoly filled songs of the Bohiemian days of old. Nearby stores and shops were left fo whoever wanted them and the Moulin Rouge itself was left abandoned. The little town of Montmarte was dying. Much like Satine had, much like Christian was now. Perhaps his father had always been right. Perhaps he was always doomed to waste his life at the Moulin Rouge with a can can dancer. Perhaps he should of never got onto that train to take him here. Walking away from the window, Christian grabbed for his coat. He figured the only way to drown his sorrows was to get a bottle or two of Absynthe and let the intoxicating drink slip him into forgetfull sleep.


	2. The Dream

It was late into the night where a waning moon shined up above filling the sky with an eerie glow. Out of the shadows loomed the figure of Christian carrying a half-drunken bottle of Absynthe.With his vision blurry, Christian tried to steady himself against a soot-covered wall, but instead slid down to the damp pavement where he dropped his bottle and started coughing. The air was getting colder and seeping into his lungs. Christian hadn't exactly been taking care of himself lately, so he figured he had caught a cold or pnemonia. His beard and stache were getting long and scraggly, while his clothes were growing ever flithier by the day. Soon, he too would be living on the streets feeding off the meat of rats and various strays.

Christian was losing conciousness, quickly passing into sleep, but not before taking one more glance upward. That moon, who's silver light illuminated his pale face and showed the true agony and heartbreak in his eyes. "Satine…" he whispered. Squinting he could almost swear to see her face in it's glowing surface. "Satine…...Satine……SATINE!" he screamed. He cupped his eyes into his hands and bawled. Fall was just upon Paris at this time of year, but the nights were already beginning to bring frost upon the air, and Christian shivered. "Satine." he whispered once more, and was out.

There was a flash of light and then the sweet sound of a voice ever so harmonically echoing through the air. Christian dared to open his eyes to the bright luminosity that had teased them open in the first place, and gasped in surprise at the scene before him. He found that he was in a room of complete white, a room of windows and sunshine. He felt again the warm breeze that had blown into his own room that very day, and listened again for the soft chant of what he thought was Satine's voice. He turned around looking in every direction, certain it was her. Upon turning around all the way, he was blinded by the sparkle of sunshine and crystal, but not so much that he couldn't make out the figure of who stood before him. It was Satine. She was looking down at him from a windowsill, her red hair beautifully catching the daylight and setting it on what looked like waves of fire. Her porcelin skin glowed with a radiancy that could never be imagined, and her eyes gleamed with a golden hue. "Christian…" she whispered, "It's you."

"Satine..Satine..I.." but he stopped. He couldn't speak he was left so breathless by her beauty. It was like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. "Satine, is this…is this a dream?" She merely chuckled, slightly crinkling her delicate nose, and replied, "Sadly yes, Christian, but you're here, and I'm here. For now we can be together."

"Yes, together." he repeated. He didn't knew how long he had before this dream would end, but he wasn't going to just let it slip away. After saying these words Christian leaned up and kissed her, letting the soft curls of her red hair sway upon his face. He held her in his arms letting the quick breeze blow the soft curtains all around them. "Christian, I.. I…lo.." started Satine.

"What my love,... what…," he replied, and then, in another flash, Satine disappeared into the light and was gone.

With a start Christian woke up in hot tears. "Noooo..." he silently said. In his arms he was not holding his beloved, but instead, one of the soft pillows upon his bed. There hadn't been a Satine…..she hadmerely been only a dream, a passing vision that had slowly melted its wayback into Christian's mind.


	3. An Unexpected Guest

It was 11 am of the next day and Christian was upon waking. Everything appeared fuzzy to his eyes and he couldn't quite make out what was frontways or sideways of him. His window was open and the chirping of birds outside gave Christian a sort of pleasant feeling. It could be that perhaps everytime he heard the sound of singing birds, he was reminded of Satine. She had wanted to leave the Moulin Rouge so badly, to just pack up and fly away like a sparrow. Outside it looked to be another beautiful day, but no matter what, no fair weather could ever make Christian content.

He scanned his room for a sweater, but upon doing so came to a hault. "Wait." he thought. "How?... What...what am I doing here?" he pondered in confusion. Becoming slightly nervous Christian tried to recount what took place the night before. "Oh, yeah,... that." he said aloud. He was starting to remember. He had gotten severely drunk off Absynthe and had passed out in the street. He recalled having a dream of Satine and waking up in his bed shortly thereafter. The question was however, how did he end up from lying in the streets to back here in his apartment room?

Christian thought about this for a moment or two more, but stopped once again when he realized that his room had been tidied of all empty liquor bottles, and that the once loose pages of his story were now neatly placed in a pile on his desk. Not only that, but his dirty clothes had been washed, folded, and layed delicately atop his dresser. Panic started to become of him at this moment, and Christian cluelessly searched for an answer to this mystery. His answer however, didn't take long.

"Hello." said a soft voice from the doorway. Christian swirved around defensively.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU BLOODY WANT?" shrieked Christian. He backed away to the other side of his bed and grabbed for aweapon of some sort; anything that would scare away this unwanted intruder.

"Now please sir, I am only here to help." said the girl ever so innocently.

"Well that's pretty damn alright, but WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOME?" he yelled. Rage flowed through his veins, andcould clearly be visible through his pulsing blue green eyes. "Please leave... now." he grumbled.

"Yes sir, I will. But please,... please just don't yell at me again sir." she whimpered.

Christian watched as the girl carefully turned around to grab for the door. He walked around to the front of the bed and continued to hold a dull blade out before him. He refused to let his guard down, even to a young girl. She couldn't have been older then 14 or 15, however, she didn't belong here. Nobody belonged here.

The girl slipped out behind the door and shut it with a quick slam. Christian stood in pure disbelief. Not because a strange girl had uninvitedly made her way into his home, or even because she had messed with his belongings, but because of the way he had treated her. He had acted very much like an immature and stubburn teen himself.

He listened for the clinking of her feet down the stairs and to the dry sidewalks outside. A last minute curiosity struck him, and Christian rushed to his window to watch as the nameless young girl ran away down the street towards the abandoned remains of the Moulin Rouge.


	4. Another Visit

It was funny how much a person could change if they'd lost the one they loved. Christian knew the saying well, that is was "better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all." But agreeing with it was another thing. Christian was only 24, but the past year had proved to mentally make him age faster. In other words, he had stopped believing in the foolish ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and yes, even love altogether. What had replaced the man that had once been so pure and full of life was now a man of hardly any emotion at all. He passed the same faces on the streets, those of local businessmen, hobos, and has-been hookers. All empty, all lifeless to him. It was about mid-afternoon now, with a set of low dark autumn clouds coming in from the west.

Christian passed by the liquor store and saw that they had restocked the Absinthe. "Perfect." he thought. He was beginning to run low on the money his father had sent him to return home, but the truth was, Christian didn't plan on coming home. He knew that in doing so, it wouldn't give his father the chance to prove that coming to Paris in the first place had always been a bad idea. "To hell with it." he said under his breath and bought four bottles of the potent beverage. He returned to his room 15 minutes later carrying his prized possesions. Setting aside the other three bottles, Christian uncorked the fourth and proceeded to guzzle its contentsdown as rapidly as he could. It seemed he couldn't get it in fast enough to soothe his thirst.

While feeling the slightly chilled Absinthe flow down his throat, Christian almost choked when he heard a knock at his door. Setting down the bottle, he rose and walked cautiously to it. Pausing, he waited, and then, hearing another faint knock muttered, "Who is it?" No reply. Again he repeated, "Who is it?" Still no reply. A third time, "WHO IS IT?" he yelled, and flew open the door. He was rather surprised to see that it was the girl from yesterday standing ever so still at his doorstep.

"Wha? I _thought_ I told you,...," he began, but stopped and sighed, "just leave."

Christian expected the girl to go running off again, but instead she stayed.

"I'm sorry. I… I wanted to apologize for impeeding yesterday. I…er.. .you see, I found you in the street a few nights ago.. and you looked like you needed some help and.." the girl tried to explain but was cut off.

"You what?... You found me?" Christian asked.

"Why yes. I brought you back up here…You were passed out in the street!" she exclaimed. "Don't you remember?" she added. Christian continued to stand in thought.

"Alright. I get that. But,... how'd you know to bring me here eh?" he questioned in a rather critical tone.

"Well, you see, there was an address of sorts labeled on your apartment key. I had to get it from your pocket…"

Something about the girl had infuriated Christian and he blew up.

"WHAT?...What the HELL were you doing in my pockets?" he yelled.

"I've told you before. I was on my way home and I…I saw you there and I… couldn't just leave you there! You were passed out in the street and it was cold! So,... I brought you back here. I didn't know where you lived, so I thought if I tried to look for some identification or something of yours in your pockets I could get you back home..." The girl was starting to cry and get antsy.

"I DON'T FUCKIN CARE!" he screamed. "GET OUT!" and turned away coughing. The girl's face was red hot with furry as she started to leave, but before doing so stopped to scream back, "FINE! BUT I JUST WANTED TO HELP! I HOPE YOU DIE IN THE STREETS THE NEXT TIME YOU GET SMASHED! I HOPE YOUR BODY LIES THERE FOR WEEKS AND ROTS YOU UNGRATEFUL AND MISERABLE DRUNK!" Hot tears flowed from her dark eyes. "NO WONDER YOUR WHORE DIED! IT WAS PROBABLY THE ONLY THING SHE COULD DO TO GET AWAY FROM AN INCONSIDERATE BASTARD LIKE YOU! and then she ran.

Christian was left speechless. She had taken this too far. To him, it literally felt like a million knives had been stabbed into his heart and he ached all over. She knew about Satine, which meant she had read the story.

A sick feeling came over Christian and he had to catch his breath. Was this pain he felt due to this girl intruding into his life? Or was it because of his behavior?

"DAMNIT!" Christian cursed. He had done it again. In a tantrum of anger he smashed the half drunken bottle of Absinthe to the wall and ran out the door. He could still hear her footsteps racing away from him, as if she were running from a monster. What was he thinking? He was the monster. A drunken, stubborn, and repulsing monster. The girl had been anything but wrong, he didn't deserve to live.

Rain started to fall as Christian tried to keep up with her. She couldn't of been more than 8 or 9 yards from him but he was loosing her fast.

"PLEASE! WAIT!" he pleaded. "I'M SORRY!"

The girl turned around for a brief moment, but continued running with all her might. He wasn't going to let her go, he thought. Not until he made this right.

The chase seemed to last for hours, but only a few short minutes. The girl had succesfully seeked a safe haven away from her chaser to which Christian would have had no problem following her into. Except however, for one conflict. The girl had ran into the abandoned Moulin Rouge.


	5. Back to the Moulin Rouge

"No." he stuttered. Absolutly no way was he entering the Moulin Rouge ever again. He would've rather faced anything else in this world other than having to go into a place so dismal and full of memory.

In the rain, Christian stood in awe of how worn the Moulin Rouge was. With it being abandoned for the past year, the windmill itself had rusted, with bits of graffiti scribbled around its doors and shattered windows. Considering only a year had passed, it looked as if it had been left for 50. Christian thought, what he almost wouldn't give to just see it as it was one year ago; a place of exoctic beauty and sin, of color, and life.

Christian's thoughts were ubruptly interupted when he heard a crack, a loud scream and then,

"HELP ME PLLEEEAASSEE!" Christian didn't have to guess, he knew the girl in there was in trouble.

Fear overtook him at that moment. Not fear of what could be facing him inside, but just the thought of having to walk through the doors of the Moulin Rouge again.

"I can't do it." he said. "I just can't. He let his head fall downward as he came to terms with his lack of courage. "I swore I'd never come here again." Rain dripped from his hair, down his body and into the puddles beneath his feet.

"CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? AAANYYYBOODYYY?" the voice shrieked.

Christian looked up. He had to do this. He had no choice. But, how could he be so certain that the girl wasn't yelling for someone to rescue her from him? He heard her cries continue, and bit his lip. Clenching his fists, his heart began to race. "I can do this. I have to." He said, and began to step forward. He heard one more muffled cry and that set him off.

He burst through the doors with lightning speed and began to frantically search for her. The floors, the walls, up above. She was nowhere. "No… NOOO!" he paniced. He was not going to let her get hurt because of him!

His eyes tried to focus on his target but he couldn't help notice how musty the dance hall and theater had become. The red curtains had been torn to shreds, the seats ripped and walls vandalised. Obviously, the place had been overrun by crooks recently at one point. It was dark and damp, and Christian could hardly make his way throught the piles of rubble and dirt. He could feel cool drops of water land on his face from holes in the cieling above. "What a shithole." he thought. Taking a few more steps forward Christian heard something rustle below him. Another step, and then he tripped and fell. With a whoomp he landed on a pile of wood, thankfully only landing on his side. The sound was real close now, perhaps only inches away.

As Christian tried to rise to his feet, a jolt of lightning illuminated the entire place, bringing out the ghostly shadows of things he once recognized. He was in the dancehall now, he was certain. Thunder. He waited. Another flash of lightning, and then he came to a sudden realization. He knew exactly where he was now, there was no denying it.

Where he was standing now was the exact place that he stood a year and a half ago when he first saw layed eyes on Satine. Hisvision glazed over and he found himself helplessly vanishing into a memory.

He opened his eyes to a stream of glitter and confetti falling from above. And then, he heard her voice.

_"The French…are glad tooo diiee foor love..."_

He remembered being completely captivated by her stricking apperance, being hit in the eyes by the shimmer of jewels that covered her corset, watching her ravishing red hair fray in curls down to one side of her face, his friend Toulouse, leaning over and whispering, "it's her, the sparkling diamond…"

Thunder boomed even louder, bringing Christian out of his short daydream. The storm was getting worser and more violent by the minute.

A brighter flash lit the hall, and Christian was blinded. Thunder roared seconds later and rattled the wooden frame of the building. It was enough to make Christian jump and trip yet again landing him face first. The fall made him scratch his cheek, hard enough so that he started to bleed. Paying no attention, he rose again and continued to look.

Something above loudly creaked as if it were about to break. Christian tried to not pay attention but some small part of him was a little skeptic. Lightning flashed once again and he now saw what he was he looking for. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

The girl lay on her side, barely concious with what looked like a severely broken leg. A dull moan escaped her mouth and she whispered, "No."

Rushing to her side Christian tried to get a better look at her condition. Her half-open eyes showed a streak of terror that made Christian feel even more pity for the girl.

It was definite, she had broken her leg, but had also a bruised forhead with a trickle of blood oozing from the wound. She would be alright he believed, but she had to get out of theresoon so her condition didn't worsen.

"Please leave me...not you..." she gasped.

"Ssshhh." he whispered. "It'll be alright. Im going to help you."

The girl didn't reply. Christian grabbed hold of her face so that they looked at one another.

"Ms., how did this happen?" he asked as politly as he could.

Again the girl didn't reply, but only looked up. Christian followed her gaze to where he saw a broken beam about 15 to 20 feet above. He understood what happened and nodded.

The girl's eyes started to flicker and she was out. "Please, hold on a little longer...I'm not going to let you go." he urged.

Christian lifted the girl ever so carefully and was able to see the full extent of her damage. What he found was that she had more bruises and wounds upon her back and arms that were all bleeding and need of repair. Clearly the girl had taken a very serious fall. He slipped her from under what looked like a piece of the wooden beam fromabove and cradled her in his arms. Waiting for the next flash of lightning he walked towards the door and prepared to leave.

He ran back out into the rain, of which still fell from the sky in buckets. The wind roared throwing rain into his face and making it that much harder to find his way. But nevertheless, he was determinded to find help.

The next few minutes of Christian's life flashed without even time to think, but that didn't matter. The girl was fading fast and his only concern was finding a doctor.

He came to the end of the street to a small house where the word DOCTOR was clearly printed on the front door. He came to the steps and pounded with an available fist. A man of his early 60's appeared at the front door wiht a puzzled expression.

"Yes.. What's the problem here?" he barked.

"Please, she needs help. She fell and broke her leg and hurt her her head. I don't think she's too good right now. Here, take her."

"Bring her in here, lay her on the bed."

Christian obeyed and set her down gently. "Is she going to be alright doctor?" he nerviously asked. The doctor pushed him aside and proceed to take a quick look at her leg and head. He sighed.

"Well, she's injured pretty bad, but we'll manage to getting her back on her feet in a few months. Her head'll be fine in no time, her leg may take longer, and she looks quite a bit malnurioushed." he paused and asked, "Say, how'd she get in this condition anyways?"

The doctor waited for an answer but none came. Christian had already left.

A few buildings away, he sat in an alley out of the rain to catch his breath. Cupping his head in his hands he breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to be ok. I guess for once, I did do something right. Taking another drawn out breath he stood up and began to head home. He stopped however, and took one look back. "I wonder if I'll ever see her again?" he silently thought. He faced frontward again and went on his way.


	6. A Chance Meeting

_Almost 7 months later..._

In Montmartre, it was spring again, meaning that another fall and winter had passed by quickly as usual.

A very attractive young man dressed in a rather fashionable manner stepped out into the daylight from the main entrance leading out of his apartment building . He wore a high collared coat with double breasted pockets and a tie around his neck,with a black bowler hat that comfortably rested atop his head. In his right hand he bore a cane which was not used for balance, but only for decoration and show. In his left arm he held a rather heavy box whose contents seemed questionable. Smelling of fresh soap, the man was clean shaven with his dark hair neatly slicked back underneath his hat. Any young woman who'd been lucky enough to pass by him on the street couldn't help but sneak a glance at this handsome and suffisticated looking gentleman.

The man nodded to whoever looked his way, trying to limit as much eye contact as possible. He hadn't been much of a social being the past year or so, but managed to recently find work writing for columns and editorials of local papers.

What he carried with him was rather precious, thus, why he held it so carefully in his arm. He was looking for the office of a small publishing company located in the very heart of Montmartre.

He easily found the residence of the publisher who went by the name of Van Weldon and shaking, knocked at the front door. Within a few seconds he was greeted by a tall chubby man who eagerly invited him in.

"So, this is it eh my boy?" said the man quite gruffly who was infact Van Weldon.

"Yes, in its entirety. I ask that you please read carefully through it. It would do me a lot of honor if you considered putting it out for publication." said the man.

"Eh young man... I promised you I'd read it, did I not? Eh shit. Don't answer that. Look, I'll get reading this thing tonight and I'll let you know by next week or so what my decision is, ok?" said Van Weldon.

"Thank you sir. It's much appreciated."

"Ehh, don't worry son. You need to learn to lighten up a bit more ya know? Say, would you care for a drink?"

"No thank you Mr. Weldon. I must be going on my way." the man chuckled.

"Well, suit yourself then. Take care Christian."

"Thank you, and goodbye." he replied tipping his hat.

* * *

Christian rather enjoyed how the weather was turning out now that it was nearing the end of April. He still felt a little haggard from the winter, but assumed that maybe he was just ageing or recueperating from a never ending cold or something. 

Something strange had happened to Christian and the town of Montmartre over the past few months. The town itself had gained alot of interest from newcomers who settled and took over the failing businesses.Overall, the town was beggining to look a little more like a friendlier place to live.

As far as Christian was concerned, his own change first took place the night of rescuing the young girl. It was almost like he had found his purpose of exhistance from that day on. He gave up the liquor and Absinthe pretty much alltogether and began writing again. He wrote pages upon pages of essays, stories and poetry which he later sold toFrench newspapers in return for money. With the money, he was capable of paying off his rent and buying some new clothes.

He still missed Satine with every part of his being, and quite frequently, woke many nights to the sound of her voice that he heard in the same reacurring dream. He could be anywhere and then out of nowhere something would remind him of her and he'd relapse temporarily. She was always on his mind, he couldn't help it. Sometimes he wished that he could be erased of all his memories of her just so he could live a normal life. It was almost like he was forced by a greater power to not give her up, or maybe, it was justhis own unwillingness.

Christian came to understand that he was stuck here on Earth, feeling, seeing, breathing, living until the very day he died. He was too scared to end his misery by suicide so he went on living every day with whatever would inspire him to do so.

For some peculiar reason, the young girl he met several months ago had unknowingly made herself his main motivation. Her painfull truthfullness had led him to want to be as far away from the repulsive man she so boldy claimed him to be.

He did often wonder what became of her; if she recovered from her fall allright, where she might've moved away to, if she was happy. Everytime he left his apartment and wandered the streets for his afternoon or evening walk, he looked at every face, hoping that just maybe, her dark eyes would pop out of the crowd and this time, accept him as a man of better character.

He didn't remember much of her, other than that she had dark brown eyes and hair that fell to her shoulders. She had full lips and was about a little less than half a foot shorter than him. In careful concentration he sat down on a bench and tried to recreate the image of the nameless girl in his mind. He could almost see her, standing there in all her youth, so innocent and pale. Only maybe this time she was a little more mature looking, not as thin, perhaps with a blush of soft red in her cheeks. Maybe she'd be carrying a parasol of lace while wearing a form fitting day dress of dark blue. Perhaps she would also have her dark auburn hair partially down under a merry widow's hat. Christian believed that he was actually building up a real-life image of this mystery girl, but he was dissapointed to find that it was only his mind playing tricks. He was focusing however, on a girl across the street who stood in front of a large set of store windows. Snapping back into reality, Christian noticed a similar likeness to this girl that he gazed upon. She did seem awfuly familiar and resembled quite a bit to the girl of his recent past.

Slowly he rose and began to stride across the street oblivious to that which was around him. A carriage stopped abruptly for him but Christian payed no attention. He neared closer to her letting the soft spring breeze guide him towards her. He stood in complete silence watching her every move. He made sure to notice how she blinked, how she walked, the way she cocked her head in curiosity at all that she saw. It had to be her, he thought.

It felt very much like time had stopped for Christian. He had not expected to ever see her again. And if in a small chance he would've, he had prepared nothing to say to the girl he so rudely treated before. Would she recognize him? What would she do if she knew it was him? Him , the same man who no more than 7 months ago emotionally crushed and criticized her so brutelly that she had to try and climb her way away from him?

He was within feet of her. This was his moment of truth. He waited until she stopped again to make a move. He watched as she paused, giving him the perfect oppertunity.

Before he could even mutter a simple hello, Christian accidently stepped on her dress giving it a slight tug which the wearer of it immidiatly took notice to. She turned around in wonder, and was caught off guard by Christian.

"Hello."he said.


	7. Awkward Greetings

At first, the girl looked at Christian with an expression of slight confusion, but shortly changed it to more passive.

"Oh excuse me sir. Please pardon me for getting in your way." She gripped her parasol tighter and began to look at him in a questionable manner. Finally Christian spoke.

"No... No not at all. This is entirely my fault. Forgive me,... will you?" he said as politely as he could. The girl reluctantly agreed,

"Alright then, that's settled... I should be going now. Good day." and turned to leave.

Christian tried to get a better look at her, but the brim of her hat hung too low for him to get a good view of her entire face.

"Please, wait." he slightly begged while placing a hand on her shoulder.The girl stopped once again to listen.

At this moment, what Christian wanted more than anything was to know her name. Anything was better than knowing her as "the girl."

"Uh..." he stuttered, " Are you from around here?" The girl raised one eyebrow in question, but proceeded to answer.

"No, but I've been back and forth from there to here rather frequently. I'm from elsewhere. Why do wish to know might I ask?"

"Uh...it's really no reason at all, I...I was just wondering." Christian looked down.

Upon looking up he noticed the girl had walked away yet again. Catching up to her he blurted out, "So tell me, what's your name?"

The girl sighed impatiently, visibly becoming annoyed with him. "What's it to you?"

"Oh well, I was just curious is all..." the palms of Christian hands were becoming infused with sweat.

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"

Chrisitan gulped. "Uhh yeah.. I...I suppose..."

"Fine then. It's Victoria Mabel. Now go."

"Victoria." he repeated in his mind. A rather common name for such an uncommon girl he thought. He once again rushed up to her side to open a nearby door for her.

"Please! Mr...eh Mr...what's your name?" she demanded. Christian was baffled.

He had failed to consider what name he'd give the girl if she ever asked what it was. He couldn't very well tell her it was Christian because he wasn't sure how ready he was to share his true identity just yet.

"_Well_?" she burst out.

"It's...ahh. it's...it's..." frantically searching for ideas, one came to him from out of the blue.

"It's...it's William Edwards!" he stuttered.

"Very well Mr. Edwards. Perhaps it would do you a bit of good if you left me alone as I have some very important business to take care of. Again, _good day_."

Taking off his hat, Christian ran his fingers through his hair, thinking of something else to do or say next. But, at the last moment, he decided to let her go. He had a feeling that he'd be seeing her again in the near future.

* * *

Looking out from his window Chrisitan loved to lose his mind in daydreaming. He found that just starring into the sky alone gave him more of an escape than anything else could. He'd often look down at the townspeople below watching as they walked or strolled, perhaps with family or friends. 

Christian was somewhat caught off guard when no more than 2 days later while looking down from his apartment window, his eyes set upon the girl again,or should he say, Victoria. She stood below his very window, and just before looking up, Christian ducked out of sight. Cautiously peeping down, he saw that she still stood there. In a spontanious manner, he leaped up from where he sat, and rushed downstairs to the main entrance. Nearly throwing Victoria off balance, he burst open the doors.

"Hey! Watch it!...You need to look where..." she stopped. "Well, Mr. Edwards, what a _not_ so pleasant surprise!"

Damn, he thought. Things were not getting off on the right start. Christian had the urge to cough due to exerting himself so carelessly, but caught his breath and replied,

"Well then it is isn't it? Er, perhaps you mean _what a_ pleasant surprise? Eh, beautiful day huh?" Victoria remained silent. Christian couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Eh Victoria, is it?"

"Yes. Thats' my name.What?"

"What...what are you doing here?" he shyly asked.

"That's absolutly none of your concern." Victoria snapped.

"Uh well, then, that's fine.I guess I should leave you and go back up." he pointed above. Christian was in hysterics.

"I would highly suggest that you do that. The last thing that I nee...wait...You..._You_ _live here?_" she paused and continued, "Say then, if it's so, could you make yourself useful and help me out?"

"But..I ...I thought you didn't want any..."

"I didn't say that. I just said I wanted you to leave me alone."

"Actually, if I may correct you, you didn't say that at all."

"Mr. Edwards, with your immaturity put aside, can you help me find someone?" asked Victoria.

"Well I...I suppose. Yes.Who?"

"He's a man that I believe lives in this very building. He's about your heighth with longer hair and a beard, goes by the name of..." she paused.

"Yes, the name...?" Christian wondered.

"His name is Christian."

He gulped and nearly felt the feeling of faintness come upon him. He had been right all along. It _was_ her. And she was looking for him.

"I...I...I...don't know him I'm afraid." he lied.

"Hmm... seems a little bit funny, butI'm about 100 percent sure he lives in this very same building as you and you've never come across him, EVER?" Her questioning was making Christian jittery.

"No...no...I...I can't say as if I have. Uh, perhaps this Christian moved away, yes?"

Christian watched the very light from her eyes fade as she turned and sighed. He felt horrible.

"What's the matter? Is...is something wrong?"

Victoria still faced away from him and he noticed the look of complete dissapointment and despair sweep over her frame. Her silence was making Christian feel extremely guilty.

"If I may inquire,... why do you wish to see him?"

Turning around, Victoria sighed again and replied glummly, "My business with him is my own, but I just wanted to..."

"Wanted to what?"

She looked up at him with her dark eyes, and Christian saw for the first time that there was something rather pretty about her. Maybe not beautiful because compared to Satine, no one could measure up, but, pretty worked.

Christian waited for an answer, but none came, so he asked once again, "What did you want?"

She softly sniffed, and replied, "I wanted to thank him."


	8. A Walk in Spring Rain

He had let her go again. Bottling up all the courage within him, he had simply let her walk away to vanish back into the crowd leaving him at the main entrance of his apartment building. She wanted to thank him, that was all. Why couldn't he have told her who he was?

It was a week later and a spring rain was falling on the town of Montmartre. Christian was out walking, taking in the smell of the crisp water that fell upon the leaves and pavement. For the most part, he was alone in the street except for a few hobos rummaging through a few trashcans nearby.

His dark hair clung to the side of his face, and his clothes were pressed to his toned thin body. He wore a high collared shirt and vest which was unbottoned. His slacks were soaked from the shin down. From where he was standing, he saw the sillohuette of the Moulin Rouge in all it's dismal glory. Water catching into his eyes, Christian closed them so he could wipe the droplets away. His mind once again fell into a flashback.

He was standing in front of the Moulin Rouge calling out to Satine. She had just denied her love to him and insisted that she stay with the Duke. How could he have ever been foolish enough to believe her? He had always wondered how she had been able to lie to him, even though he knew full well she had done it to protect him from the Duke.Oh, how he hated and despised that man. He had left shortly before Satine's death, never to be seen since.

Christian couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if Satine had left the Moulin Rouge with him; if she had thrown away her career, the show, the riches, and had ran away so that they could be together. What would've life been like if she was never sick and hadn't died? Would Christian be standing as he was now, looking up at the Moulin Rouge, letting it's ghostly presence overwhelm him with all these memories and what ifs?

We could've been married, he thought. We could've moved away to London, or maybe to America where we could've lived in love and peace away from the Duke. We could've raised a family, grown old together, spent every evening in eachother's arms while watching the sun set.

Christian was always thankful that he had had his chance with Satine. Even though it had only been a few months, he had been able to hold her, to kiss her, to love her in every way possible. She had been his, he had been hers. They had loved and shared something no soul could touch, not Zidler, not the Duke, not anybody. He had found his greatest happiness with her, and her alone.

The sound of thunder up ahead made Christian's fantasies of his future never-to-be come to a hault, bringing him back to the ever gloomy Montmartre streets. Again, Christian wiped away the water from his eyes, only this time it wasn't rain, but tears.

* * *

The cold rain had brought shivers to Christian and he thought it best to head back home. However, he wanted to first stop by the post office and see if he had recieved any telegrams, most importantly, one from Van Weldon. 

What Christian had taken to the publisher nearly a week and a half earlier was his story. _The_ story. Theone piece of writingthat he had poured every ounce of his soul and energy into, the story that he had written for Satine. Initially, he had wanted to keep it a secret, forevor hide it from the world while living in the comfort of his grief. But over time, he wanted to share with everyone what had been the most beautiful part of his life.The memory of Satine did not belong in a pile on his desk or even trapped in Christian's mind for the rest of his exhistance.

"Nothing today!" the post man shouted at Christian as he walked by the post office.

Greatly dissapointed, he turned away in the direction of his apartment.

Coming up the stairs Christian noticed a small envelope on his door. Maybe this was the telegram from Van Weldon! With excitement, he rushed to his door and pealed off the envelope thuroughly searching it for a name or something that said it was from his publisher. Finding nothing, he opened it anyways to find a fairly short handwritten letter. It read:

_Dear Christian,_

_It has been quite some time since our parting and I am writing to you to say this: _

_I want to thank you deeply for what you did for me several months ago. If you hadn't come to get me, I surely would haveremained there, possibly dying as a result of my injuries. I was also ill beforehand and in need of medical attention to get healthy. However, I was poor withno place to live. I found you in the street that autumn night, cold and unconcious, and because of an irrational idea, thought that if I brought you back to your apartment, you could possibly agree to giving me a place to stay. I am terribly sorry for impeeding into your life and thoughtlessly disturbing you as much as I did. My intention was not to cause you grief. I understand now why you acted the way you did and I apologize for notunderstanding at the time._

_If at all possible, I would like to thank you in person and repay you for the kindness that you showed me last year. I will be waiting in the Montmartre Park at precisely noon tomorrow. If you fail to show up, I will not take it in offense. Just know that I forgive you, whether you're sorry or not, for what happened._

_Sincerely, a friend_

There was no name. The letter had ended as such.. Christian knew this was Victora's doing, there was no mystery involved. But should he go to her? Should he risk making her upset by showing up? He didn't know what to do. He thought about his decision late into the night eventually fallinginto restless sleeparound dawn.


	9. A Chance Almost Missed

For the short time that Christian was asleep, he had had another dream. Satine was in it once again and she was running. He was behind her within inches of his grasp and she kept looking back, laughing at something only her and the dream version of himself knew about. "Com'on Christian! Hurry up!" she giggled, "We don't have forever!" Her laughter was infectious.

Satine grabbed for his hand and they ran. Through bushes and trees, under a wooden bridge and over a small hill. They came out of the brush, into a vast field of high grass and flowers. "Com'on Christian!" she shouted. She was flying. The wind swirled her hair all around and she was beaming. The sleeves of her dress flowed into the breeze as she extended both arms outwards to him. "Christian come here..." she whispered. He reached for her and she pulled him to the ground. He landed beside her, both of them laughing, and then he leaned over to kiss her. "Oh Christian,...if only." she said afterwards.

His eyes met her gaze and she closed her lids. "Satine." He quietly said. But she didn't answer. "Darling, now's not the time to rest. Wake love." Christian softly stroked her face. The color was fading from her cheeks. "Satine?...Satine?" he waited. There was nothing he could do. "No." he silently protested. "Not again." Her form evaporated before him into the air. "No." was all he could say.

* * *

Christian abruptly awoke to the sound of loud chimming. His chest hurt and still very tired, layed back down on the bed to catch his breath. 

Whyhad all ofhis dreams felt so real to him? Why was it that in every one, he saw Satine and they were happy, and then like magic, she dissapeared? Even in his own dreams, Satine was never going to be his.

"What time is it?" he wondered. He thought he had heard his clock chime when he awoke, but he couldn't be positive. He walked into the next room to look at the time, and to his horror saw something disheartening. It was 12:23 p.m. He was late. Maybe too late.

"DAMNIT!" he yelled. He had decided shortly before going off to sleep that he wanted to take his chances and see Victoria. "Why me?" he spurted.

Throwing on any clothing he could find, which in this case was a half damp shirt and slacks from the day before, he ran as fast as he could out of his apartment, down stairs, out the building, through the streets, past small stores, past dozens of townspeople, and finally into the park. Searching all around him, he tried to find Victoria. A giant clock that loomed on the south side of the park read 12:35. He was 35 minutes too late. Tucking his shirt in and slicking back his hair, Christian was trying to get himself into a more presentable apperance. He threw a long coat over his clothes to hide the wrinkles that had formed on his shirt overnight.

Seconds ticked and his mind was racing. He scanned the faces of everyone walking by, hoping that just maybe, her face was there. He sat on a nearby bench and started to bite his nails. "Jesus." he said in a disgusted tone. "I missed her." Christian had given up all hope of seeing Victoria when unexpectedly, a soft hand touched his shoulder and a voice said, "Hello." He knew this voice. This was the voice, so full of innocence and purity that he had first heard seven months ago in his apartment. The same voice that he had been so quick to heartlessly dismiss. Did he dare turn around and look at her? Did he dare tell her it was him? Or, did she already know it was him?

"Christian." she spoke. His eyes fluttered. "Be honest." he told himself. "Be honest."

"Christian." the voice repeated. He took a breath. He didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry." was all he could say. His head bent down with locks of hair covering his face. Victoria walked in front of him and knealed to his level. From between strands of hair, he saw her feet and the bottom of her dress. A black glove reached out to his chin and guided his face back upward. Victoria stood there, a small smile spreading across her mouth.

"I already said I forgive you."


	10. Loreena's Past

He couldn't believe it. She _forgave_ him? And not only that, but she had already known who he was!

"How...?" he began.

"Shhh... Please. It really doesn't matter now." she reassured.

"Please, Victoria, I didn't mean to lie to you, I just..." he was cut off again.

"Wait... Who's Victoria? she asked.

"Isn't that your name?"

Her face showed an expression of amusement. "Oh. Hee hee. Well, you see the truth is, that's not my real name."

Christian looked at her in wonder. "Then, what is it so that I may get it correct next time?"

She chuckled again.

"I must know if you can tell me..."

"It's Loreena."

"Loreena? That...that's beautiful." he said. She shrugged with a grin.

"Loreena,...perhaps you would let me start over?." Placing a hand out, he waited for one of hers to join his. She smiled coyly and her right arm bent forward.

"I'm Christian." he spoke, and ever so gently, placed a soft kiss on the knuckle of her hand.

* * *

They spent the rest of that day roaming the Paris streets, highly concentrated in what the other had to say, and Christian realized quite soon that Loreena was nothing like the Victoria she had played. She wasn't cold or sharp-tounged, but rather sweet and kind. It was by listening to her that Christian learned about the sad history and true nature of his new found aquaintence. 

Loreena told her story like this:

She was a traveling artist who had been born in the city of London, living with her ruthless family until they abandoned her 5 years earlier at the age of 13. At the time, all Loreena had known was that they'd left her to go to the Americas. She was broke, hungry, cold, and lost.Yet, she found jobs here and there while traveling all throughout Europe in search of other relatives. She had first came to Paris a year ago, about 7 months after Satine's death, and upon meeting Christian, had resided there for 5 months. Not only had she come to Montmarte to find work and paint, but also to become part of the much celeberated Bohiemian Revolution. Her inner most dream had been to visit the Moulin Rouge, and mingle with those of a higher society. Despite these wishes however, she arrived with little money and a flu. She needed more money to find a place to live as well as medicine to cure her illness, but she couldn't raise enough from her art alone. So, she made the choice that by going to the Moulin Rouge, she would become a dancer herself in exchange for payments. Loreena arrived at Montmartre, spending her last few nickles and dimes to board a train, finding the danceclub to be left wrecked and empty. She had not known what to do next.

Living in the Moulin Rouge wouldn't have been her first option, but she was presented with no other choice but to find shelter in it's remains. As the days went on, she managed to steal food and clothing, however, at a cost. Loreena was getting ever sicker by the day. She needed to find another place to live and she thought she could win the sympathy of someone in town to give her help, but she found no one. Except for maybe Christian. She had seen him countless days in the streets returning to a home she knew was empty. But fate took hold of Loreena's life and once she had had her accident and Christian had taken her to the doctor, it was then her life changed forever.

The doctor had tried to find Christian again, but never succesfully did. Feeling sorry for Loreena, the doctor felt it his place to adopt her untill she was either 18 or untill she was well enough to make it back out on her own. The doctor and Loreena had grown fond of eachother much like as if they were father and daughter, forming a realationship that had not been intended. The docotor decided that becausee he loved her as much as he did, she could stay with him for as long as she liked or whenever she liked. After staying indoors for 4 months to fully recover, Loreena had celebrated her 18th birthday that past January, January 10th to be exact, and for a present, the doctor had taken her to London to study art for 3 months. She had just gotten back no more than 3 weeks ago, seeing Christian again a week after.

The whole time Christian had been tossing a question back and forth in his mind that he had wanted to ask Loreena for awhile. He eventually stopped her and asked.

"Why did you come find me again?"

Caught a little off guard, Loreena replied.

"Truthfully,... I don't know. I guess part of it was me feeling so guilty about what I said to you before... I should probably apologize for having been so unkind myself."

She wanted to say more, he could tell, but she was holding back.

Christian walked, hands in pockets, gazing up into the afternoon sky. Loreena couldn't help herself smirk at how handsome he was. He had some stubble on his face, and his hair was a little unkempt, but it was a look that worked for him.

"I forgive you too Loreena." he said.

Loreena meekly smiled, relieved to hear that their conflicts could be put to rest.


	11. A Story About Love

_2 more weeks pass_

Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock.

Christian woke up confused and slighlty annoyed due to the pounding at his door.

"Alright! Alright! Im coming!" he shouted. Throwing on a robe he opened it slowly to see who his disturber was.

"Well! Well! My boy Christian! What kept ya lad?" a booming voice exclaimed.

"Mr...MR. VAN WELDON?" Christian had not been expecting this.

"Yep that's my name son! Say, where the hell you been these past few weeks eh? Ive been worried sick! Tried sendin ya a damn telegram but the post office says they lost it and you haven't come back to check with me personally..."

"Eh, was I suppossed to?"

"Uh nevermind that young man, no worries right? Anyways! I'm here to tell you some news!"

Christian gulped.

"Hey com'on now! Lighten up I say, it's good!"

"Is this about my story?"

"Now now! Don't be too hasty mate! Invite me in! Give me a drink!"

"Oh please sir forgive me for not being more curtious!"

"Eh, please! Just relax son remember?" Van Weldon came in and sat at Christian's dinner table while Christian tried to calm his own nerves and find some liquor. Pouring two glasses of Scotch, Christian joined Val Weldon.

"So, this is where you live huh? Nice view. Kinda small, but nice view."

"Mr. Van Weldon?"

"Ya know, when I was your age I used to live in this nice little place more out West that overlooked the harbor and every afterno-..."

"Mr. Van Weldon, my story?"

"Ahh yes, the story. Huh, the story,... well,... the story is a...a..."

"Yes? Yes" Christian questioned anxiously.

"The story wasn't really my cup of tea mate, ya get what I mean? But.."

"Shit! Jesus! What was I thinking by giving that piece of trash to you?"

"No hold on a god damn bloomin minute boy! I said it wasn't my cup of tea, but..." he paused, " I never said I didn't like it."

"So,...so what does this mean?"

"This means you have yourself a published book."

Christian's jaw dropped and he jumped from the seat of his chair yelling, " BLOODY HELL! I DID IT! OH! Thank you sir thank you soo much!" He grabbed for Van Weldon's hand shaking it as hard as he could.

"Hee hee hee. Eh Christian.I like you kid, ya know that? I have never read anything even half as brilliant as what I read from you. Nobody deserves this more!"

"Oh Mr. Van Weldon, thank you...thank you so much."

"Well, I have more work to get done." Van Weldon arose and started to walk out the door. Christian said one final thank you and saw to it that the man was escorted out ofthe building properly.

His heart was beating a million miles an hour and he couldn't wait for the world to read his story and about Satine.

"Satine! I did it! I did it for you!" he shouted. He wasn't sure if somewhere between the living and the dead her spirit could hear him, but he knew someone who could.

"I have to tell Loreena. She'll be so happy for me I know it!"

* * *

For the past two weeks Christian and Loreena had become fast friends. They had spent every waking day in eachothers company discussing anything that came to mind such as music, poetry, politics, society, everything except Satine. Loreena had become a nice distraction from the pain he usually felt, and he grew used to her company on a regular basis. Without her around, he was reminded of his lonliness, and that was when he missed Satine the most. 

They found by spending as much time as they had together, they had a lot in common. Loreena was everything that Christian wanted in a friend. She was patient, kind, and easy to talk to as well as intelligent and humorous. It felt nice to have a friend, Christian thought; nice to have someone to talk to when everyone else who had claimed to be his friend, simply just left without a goodbye.

Loreena was sitting on her back patio when she heard abrupt yelling from the other side of the house and loud kocking. She was use to having Christian come over on a regular basis to see her art or sit for tea, but it was still fairly early for him to be at her house.

"LOREENA! LOREENA!" the voice called.

"Hold on!" she replied.

Running towards the front, she saw her visiter.

"Christian? You're early!"

"Loreena, you wouldn't believe what's happened to me...the most amazing thing, I still can't believe...it's astounding!"

"Ok Christian, calm down... What happened?"

"My book! It's getting published! I...I couldn't wait to tell you!"

"WHAT?" You mean _your _book? My God! Christian that's wonderful!"

Loreena ran up to Chrsitian and gave him a warm embrace. He had not been expecting this much of a reaction from her, but he figured she was just over-excited for him.

"Christian...do you know what this means? You could be famous!"

"Well, I don't know about that, but listen,...I was thinking...I'm gonna need a cover for my book."

She cocked her head in puzzlement, not entirely sure what Christian was suggesting.

"Loreena, you're an artist. You could paint one for me. Just think, everyone'll see your work."

"Christian I don't know...I.."

"You have to! You're the only other person who's read it."

Christian could see that she was showing a little guilt.

"Christian, I still...I still don't know what I could do. I mean I was never there."

"You could paint Satine on the cover, while in the background, you could have the can can dancers and the Moulin Rouge!"

"Christian, you described her beautifully in your book, but it wasn't enough to get a good idea of what she really looked like."

"Then I'll help you. Nobodyknew herbetter than me."

Loreena was considering the thought now. She took a breath.

"If you insist, then I'll do it."

"Oh! I knew you would! Loreena, thank you!"

He grabbed her hand and gave it a rushed peck, and started running.

"Wait! Chrsitian..where are you gong?"

"Com'on! Let's get started!"

* * *

Loreena came up to Christian's apartment carrying a small canvas, paints,and paintbrushes. She set her materials on the dining table in front of the window she began to prime the canvas. Chrsitian brought her a drink and some bread. After the prime coat was dry, Loreena waited for instruction from Christian on how he wanted the cover. 

All day Loreena painted, and Christian watched her every stroke. She was at such peace when she was painting and displayed a grace so uncommon among artists. The setting sun twinkled in Loreena's eyes, and Christian found himself almost captivated by their shimmer. When the sun set lower and she couldn't see as well, Loreena asked Christian to turn on a light. In doing so he saw that it was nearing the end of day by his clock and he still had to talk to Van Weldon again once more.

"Loreena, it shouldn't take me too long, but I have to leave and manage some business. I hope you don't mind."

She slowly looked up and nodded. "Ok" was all she said. Her painting was nearing it's finish. "I should be done shortly."

* * *

2 hours had passed and Christian had taken way longer than he expected. In frantics, he rushed along the dark and lifeless streets as fast as he could back home. "She's probably mad at me! God knows she would have left by now!" 

On his way home, Christian came across a flower shop that was getting ready to close. Perhaps he could buy Loreena a little something in case she was still there. He didn't think he was showing enough appreciation for what she was doing for him anyway. Maybe this would help.

Opening his apartment door and setting down his coat and hat, he called out, "Loreena, I'm home!" Nobody answered and Christian went about his way through the rooms. Coming to his living room he saw the moonlight beaming in through the open window and there, sleeping peacefully on his couch was Loreena. The girl had more than likely become too tired to go home on her own.

Chrsitian grabbed a nearby blanket and was about to cover her with it when he got another thought. Carefully, he lifted Loreena up and cradled her in his arms. Creeping over to the bed, he placed her upon it, letting wisps of her hair fall across her face. With his right hand he gently pulled them away and with the other hand reached for the sheets. He wanted to make sure that she was kept warm. He sat on the side of the bed watching her sleep, and it was then a soft, pleasant feeling like warm sugar spread across his mind. Christian realized that he was starting to really care for Loreena. Not a paternal caring since he was only a few years older than Loreena, but a deep, sincere caring.

Leaning over, Christian kissed her on the forehead. She didn't stir. Rising off the bed Christian placed the bouqet of flowers on the adjoining nightstand for her to see in the morning, left the room, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Christian took off his shoes and shirt and sat by the window sill looking up at the moon. He had almost forgotten about the painting and looked over to see how it finished. By the faint light of the night sky he saw it. The finished painting. It was amazing, and the sort of eerie part of it was that she had painted an exact replica of Satine. Now that the story and cover was finished, Christian breathed a sigh of relief. But wait, what about a title? Biting his lip, Christian came up with one simple idea. His book should be called _A Story About Love. _Perfect he thought. 

Christian's mind wandered away from him now. He too was becoming very sleepy, his concious slowly melting into dreamland. Before he went completly off to sleep, his mind put out one more thought. This wasn't of Satine like usually, but of Loreena. Christian sleeply smiled and then was out.


	12. Unpredicted Passion

_Late June_

Time was going by fast for Christian, almost too fast he sometimes wondered. By the end of May, his book, _A Story About Love _had been published for all of the world to read, and the world loved it. There wasn't a person on the street who didn't pass Christian without giving him a complimant on his work. Wherever he went, he was known and celebrated. He was becoming increasingly wealthier from the success of his book and was able to take some time off from his column writing to relax and spend time with Loreena. At this point, they had become the very best of friends and many around them rumored them to be romantically involved, although that wasn't the case. Christian cared for Loreena, but not in the same sense that he had cared for Satine.

One thing that Loreena had figured out quite soon enough about Christian was that he didn't like to talk about Satine, except for maybe, if it pertained to his book. There was a part of him that she wanted so badly to know so much better, but his unwillingness to let his last love go was making that highly difficult. There was another thing Loreena was realizing as well. This was that she was falling in love with Christian.

She knew that in a million years he could never return those same feelings, so she kept her mouth shut, and tried to ignore the feeling. Yet, she swore there were so many times when he've had to known how she felt. There were so many times when she slipped either by trying to hold his hand, or with occasional flirting. It was hard for Loreena to play the part of someone who was just supposed to be a good friend, not of someone who was falling deeply in love. Loreena would catch herself every now and again, starring at Christian, watching the way his hair fell in front of his face, or how he'd periodically scratch the back of his neck while he was in thought. She liked his smile as well, and the wayhe made her feel safe and secure.

One partly cloudy day, Christian had taken Loreena up to a hill that overlooked the town of Montmarte. Upon arriving Loreena exclaimed, "Oh Christian, it's absolutly breathtaking. How did you know about a place like this?"

He took a second to pause, and replied, " I used to come up here with Satine a few times." His eyes had a washed look to them. Almost like the sky before a storm. Loreena was trying to get closer to him. She inched her way towards him, almost so close that she could smell his aftershave. Christian didn't seem to pay attention. Loreena was about to place a hand on his when he broke out in spasmed coughing.

"Christian! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just...cough...I've just had this cough for awhile. Probably pneumonia or bronchitis or something. Nothing to worry about." He was gasping and breaking out in a small sweat.

"Here, take a sip." Loreena offered him some water. He drank slowly letting his gaze wander up to that of Loreena's. She looked away.

"Are you alright now?"

"Yeah I think so, thanks."

Loreena sat back down atop the spread sheet and began to hum. Christian knew what she was humming and sat down next to her once again and beginning to sing. It was the first time in forever that he had felt like doing so. Actually, he hadn't sung since Satine's death. Caught by surprise, Loreena looked over at Christian.

"You can sing? I didn't know."

He shrugged nonchalantly, and smiled at her."I used to sing when Satine was alive."

"You shouldn't have stopped. It's a wonderful talent, you sing beautifully."

"Satine thought so too. Her and I used to sing all the time when we were together. I swear her voice was like that of an angel's. Completly hypnotic without imperfection."

A twing of jealousy stabbed at Loreena. She had always wanted to be there for Christian, to listen to him, to be his friend. She had even encouraged him to be more open about Satine, but when he finally started to, she just felt horrible and slightly mad inside. Loreena began to look for distractions to get his mind off of Satine.

"Hey I know! Let's play a game. You know, like one of those games you see the schoolyard children play."

Christian was looking slightly amused and confused all at once, but he had stopped talking about Satine. "Er ok then, what did you have in mind?"

Loreena giggled and ran out of sight. "Close you eyes and come find me after 30 seconds! No peeking!"

Christian obeyed and rose to start looking for Loreena. She had ran into the set of woods nearby.

"Lora! Lora! Little Lora the Flora, come out!" That had been a nickname he had given her one day, and even though she wasn't a fan of it, as long as he was the only one calling her that, she didn't mind.

Loreena giggled behind a tree and Christian heard it loud and clear. Heading in that direction, Loreena popped out and ran past him.

"Hey com'on thats cheating!"

Loreena ran ahead and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh! Now you're just getting silly!" This was becoming alot like one of the dreams that Christian had had with Satine, the one where he was chasing after her through some woods. Loreena even had a white dress on and her hair was flying behind her like Satine's had.

Loreena was only a few inches ahead of him and ran into a small meadow surrounded by trees. She stopped, seeing what Christian would do next. Her eyes were on fire, hair falling down each side of her shoulders. Loreena was breathing hard and waiting for just the right moment. "Ha Ha!." Christian mockingly chuckled, "You're trapped!" She was watching him as he too was panting, his shirt loosly open. His hair was a mess again, and his eyes had a playful look to them. She could tell he felt the anxious tension too.

With a bolt of energy, Loreena tried to run past Christian, but he was faster and stronger, and easily caught her before she could get away. "Ahhh!" she yelped playfully. He had her in his arms and carefully pushed her to the ground where he started to tickle her. She tried once again to get away, but he was straddling her with his weight, preventing her from getting away. "Christian stop it!" She was in hysterics. He stopped and looked down at her. Her hair was tossed in every direction, leaves tangeling inbetween strands. When things seemed to calm down a bit, Loreena once again struggled away from Christian, but he shifted more weight upon her and forced her arms down. He was smiling down at her and she was trying to keep from laughing. He leaned down closer to her face and whispered, "Got you." Loreena just smiled. She was waiting for him to get off her and let go, but the distance between their faces had remained the same. They were both still breathing pretty heavily with their eyes catching in eachother's glances. One of Christian's hands swapped the hair away from her face, and the other, still holding one of her arms down, loosened it's grip, and went instead, to hold the hand of that arm. Loreena, in a moment of spontinuity, urched her head upward into a sensual kiss that surprised even Christian himself. Her soft, warm lips pulsated against his, and he gave into the rapture of her desire. They stopped to take the moment in, and Christian lunged into Loreena.

Their kisses became more heated with exploding passion, and Christian found himself becoming quickly aroused. With his free hand, he placed it at her theigh under her skirt, his feverish kisses moving down her neck. She began to arch her back, and Christian let go of her hand to start unbuttoning her shirt. His own body wanted to take her right there, to let it become part of hers. He was fully swelled and ready to give her what she wanted, but something was holding him back. A sick feeling, unlike anything he had ever felt before had come over him. Clutching his stomach, Christian got off of Loreena, who was now showing signs of confusion. She reached for his face, but he stopped it and threw her hand away.

"Christian, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that...please...I..." Christian was still holding his stomach as if he were about to throw up, his face becoming pale. Loreena once again tried to advance towards him, this time more cautiously. He sat there, completly in silent shock, unaware of Loreena next to him. She was kissing the side of his face, but he paid no attention. Warping back into reality, Christian sat up with a jolt and shoved Loreena aside.

"Christian! What's wrong? Is it me?" Chrisitian's face was turning red.

"No."

"Than what is it? Can't you tell me?"

"DAMNIT SHUTUP!" Christian screamed. He was realizing now how much it had hurt to physically get involved with Loreena. He hadn't made love with anyone since Satine died, and it wasn't that he couldn't make love again, it was just he couldn't with someone other than Satine. His mouth was burning, and he was becoming more nausiated than he could handle. He couldn't believe what had almost taken place, how he had almost had sex with Loreena. Feeling a bit of sympathy for her, he came back over to help cover her up.

"Loreena, I'm sorry."

She looked away trying to hide the tears that were starting to weep from her eyes. She knew this was hopeless. He had to knownow how she felt about him, and she couldn't stand to look at him and pretend as if nothing happened. But sheshe could tryto lie anyway.

"Christian, I understand...I do. I'm sorry for not understanding sooner."

"Loreena, you...you don't like me, do you? I mean, I'm sorry for hurting you this way. I didn't know you felt that way about me. It's just I can't.."

"Christian, I said I understand...and I don't love you. I just got caught in the moment. I shouldn't have let it get that far." Loreena looked over at Christian, secretly hoping that his face showed a sign of dissapointment. But instead, all she saw was a look of relief.

"Then, you're not offended are you?"

With all the strength left in her she muttered a "No." and fakely smiled. This was killing her inside. She wanted Christian in every way possible, but he was just being so stubburn. He still had so much to let go before he could feel anything more for anyone, especially her.

"Loreena, I'm sorry."

"Christian..." but she stopped and walked away. Christian melted to the leaf covered ground beneath him, letting his head fall to it. He ached all over, and he couldn't breath, his cough starting up once again. He pounded a fist onto the ground, hoping somewhere, someone could feel his anguish.


	13. The Visiter and His Proposal

_Early July_

Loreena and Christian had been avoiding eachother since the incident. This kind of distance between them was causing too much grief for Christian because he was very fond of her, and it hurt him to not be able to talk with her as they once did. He couldn't help but feel guilty for what he had done. Meanwhile, Loreena was feeling guilty too for being so selfish and allowing herself to become vulnerable. She still loved him, but was deeply under the impression that he resented her. Whether or not they wanted to admit it, they were both missing eachother very much.

However, in place of Loreena's abscence came something else for Christian. The popularity of his book had brought a high demand for the revival of the Moulin Rouge. His foreign readers who had read all about the has-been dance club and it's star became intrigued to know if it had actually exhisted, while those readers that had lived in Montmartrewho had known of it's exhistance, wanted it's return. Cominghome from a walkone evening, Christian ran into someone he least expected to ever see again.

Out of the shadows came the man, still as bulky as ever, dressed in a simple coat and hat. He ran into Christian, rather forcively as if on purpose, almost knocking Christian off balance.

"Hey! Watch it!" Christian said, but upon stepping into the light of a night lamp, the other man exposed his identity.

"Zidler?...Harold Zidler"

He nodded quietly, "Christian,... hello."

He didn't know what else to do, so he responded politely back to Zidler with a hello. Seeing him standing there was almost too surreal for him. He coughed into his fist.

"Zidler, what are you doing back here?...You know there's nothing for you left."

Zidler gave a sly grin. "I came back for the Moulin Rouge. I want to start running it again."

"Zidler, no. You can't."

"Christian, you and I never had the chance to talk face to face, but I knew how you felt about Satine. I know how you feel about her still." Christian rolled his eyes as his temper was beginning to flare.

"Oh, do you now? Zidler, I _loved_ her. Something I wouldn't have expected you could've ever felt for her. She was just a source of income to you, wasn't she? She was just the hoar that went out and brought you your money every night so you could live in all your riches surrounded by all your wealthy powerful aristicratic friends, all while you let poor Satine waste away doing your dirty work. You were the reason she stayed, weren't you? You wouldn't let her go!" Christian had enraged himself, but was trying his best to keep calm.

"Christian..."

"I don't want to bloody hear it." His back was to Zidler and he was walking away.

"Christian, would you listen? She chose to stay!"

Chrisitan paused, back still facing Zidler.

"You don't think I don't ALREADY KNOW THAT?" he shouted back.

"I only told her that if she gave you up, then the Duke wouldn't have to kill you. I never told her she had to stay with me at the Moulin Rouge."

Christian turned around looking puzzled. Harold continued.

"You know, I never forced her to stay. She could've gone with you."

"Zidler, how am I supposed to believe that? She stayed because you made her believe that she had to stay and protect me."

"Yes, I know, that was part of it. But there's hardly a doubt in my mind that you two couldn't have run off without the Duke finding you. You would've been fine."

"Zidler, what are you getting at? I don't understand."

"I'm saying that maybe she didn't want to go live a fairytale life with you, or maybe she thought that she'd always have to live in fear all the timewhile running from the Duke. Who knows? Whatever the reason, she chose to stay, and I believe it wasn't just to protect you."

"I can't beleieve that Zidler, you know I won't. Satine loved me and I know if she could've, she would've come with me in a heartbeat. We loved eachother!"

"But how can you be so sure that's how she felt Christian? How? If she loved you so much, than how did she lie to you the way she did? Huh? Christian, I told her that same night that she was dying. I told her in the hopes that she would go and live with you. I knew she was happy with you, but I was rather surprised when she didn't take the opportunity and just leave. Instead, she chose to live the rest of her days here. I don't know the exact reason whether it was for her career or what, but she had a reason for her choice."

There was some truth to what he was saying. If Satine had told Christian that she was so unhappy at the Moulin Rouge and that she wanted to leave, why hadn't she? If she had loved Christian as much as she said she did, why did she still want to remain anywhere near the Duke? Any woman who had been as sick as Satine would have wanted to live her life the way she truelly thought was best. She had told Christian she wanted to leave with him, but she didn't. Had she really loved him then?

Zidler and Christian were at a loss of words.

"Christian, why shouldn't the Moulin Rouge be allowed to come back?"

"Because Harold, it belongs the way it is! Abandoned! Forgotten! It took everything away from me that I loved! Seeing it again would just be too painful."

"Then leave Christian. Just leave. You've been here too long wasting away on these memories."

"How would you know why I'm still here huh? Zidler, Christ! I've spent the last year and a half trying to get rid of Satine! You bringing back the Moulin Rouge would just be too much. It'd be almost like Satine never happened to you isn't it? Like everyone just forgot about her."

"Christian, it's not just me. Your story, I've read it. It's why I knew how much you felt for Satine. It's a wonderful story, and the people who've read it want to have something of that story that's real. They want the Boheimian Revolution to come back! Just think, with the Moulin Rouge back, Montmartre will be as it once was! Full of life!"

"Harold, I just don't know..."

"Whether you want this or not, the Moulin Rouge will be back, and I'll personally see to it that it is."

Christian knew this arguement was getting nowhere. He didn't want the Moulin Rouge back, but he knew that he had to start letting Satine go. Publishing his story had been the first step, but now with the possibility of the Moulin Rouge returning, he had to step further away from what he knew, which was in his case, holding onto that memory of her for as long as he could. While in his thoughts, he felt a stabbing pain in his chest and he placed a hand across it, trying to catch his breath. He was feeling a little fatigued and was wondering if he should just leave Zidler to his malicious ways.

"Harold, I should go now."

"Christian, wait for a minute."

"What?"

"I have something for you that I found. I thought it best if you have it." Zidler handed Christian a stained white envelope. He opened it carefully, trying to gently take what rest inside. Into his hands fell a pair of earrings and a small photograph. It was of Satine.

"Zidler how...how did you get these?"

"I had them after they buried her. There's an address on the other side of the photo where her grave is."

Christian was speechless. For one of the few times in his life he was without words.

"Thank you. This means a lot."

"Christian. Think of this as a gift of someone who's apologizing for the pain they've caused and from someone would really want your support for the Moulin Rouge. Christian, I want to be your friend, thats all."

Christian held the picture in his hands, tears urging to swell from his eyes. He was thinking.

"Ok, Harold, I can't do this for me. I won't do this for me. But, I'm going to do this for someone who would appreciate your intentions." With his free hand he shook Zidlers. He was beaming with a look of achievment, and Christian felt as if he just gave his soul to the devil.


	14. Preparations

_Late August_

"Well Christian, what do you think?" Harold Zidler asked. The two men were standing in front of the newly renovated Moulin Rouge. They had spent the past 2 months along with a crew of contracted builders in fixing and reparing the dance hall. Christian himself had even helped in the process as well; not only by helping build the Moulin Rouge itself, but also donating a large sum of his book profits towards the cause (which of course was mainly due to Zidler's begging). But there they stood, Christian and Zidler, looking up at the windmill with its glistening new set of lightbulbs. Tonight, there would be life brought back into that windmill. The Moulin Rouge would be brought out of the dark, and filled with the sounds of laughter and celebration as hundreds of men, woman, and such, piled into the hall to engage in the festivities of the grand opening that would take place that very evening.

A month earlier, Zidler had proposed that there be a sort of ball to hit off the reopening of the Moulin Rouge, and so posters and billboards had lined the streets of Paris and the rest of France to advertise the great event. Word had reached all throughout Europe of the event, and stores were bustling with business as those who planned on coming to the Moulin Rouge bought new outfits and costumes to arrive in. Groups of dancers rehearsed their rutines to be performed at the club, while in the bakeries and kitchens, magnificant feasts and desserts were prepared. The town of Montmartre, and Paris for that matter had become a gigantic livewire. Excitement and anticipation filled the air and everyone couldn't wait for the Moulin Rouge to open it's doors once again.

Christian was pleased with how the Moulin Rougehad beenredone. It was very similar to the one that had been, but different enough that Christian wasn't so awfully disturbed by it's appearance. He was actually a little excited himself to be going. However, on his mind was a more pressing matter.

He had barely had the chance to speak to Loreena again since the early summer, being as he had been much more preoccupied with getting the Moulin Rouge rebuilt. But Christian believed this to be the perfect oppertunity to talk with her again. He was planning on asking her to the ball that evening. That way, he wouldn't have to show up alone, and he'd also get the oppertunity to spend time with Loreena and mend any wounds that may still lay between them.

He hoped she would be home, but in case not, he had an invitation in his hand to leave at her door when she did return.

Politly, he knocked at her door, and waited. His stomach was filled with butterflies and he almost hoped she wouldn't answer just so he wouldn't have to face her. However, within a few minutes she stood in front of him.

"Christian, I wasn't expecting you."

He didn't know what to say. The words were stuck on the very tip of his tongue, screaming to get free, but he lacked the confidence to say anything at all. Perhaps this was because he was finding himself a little smitten with Loreena. She only had on some thin robes and a corset which was covered by them , but still, he could tell she had one on. Her hair was up in a messy bun, with a few strands down around her ears. She almost looked exactly like-no. He wasn't going to think it.

"Loreena, tonight...you see, there's this thing at the Moulin Rouge... a ball...and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me tonight?" He held out the invatation.

She bit her lip and rested her head on her hands which were placed at the crane of her neck. She looked a little dissapointed.

"Christian, I'm sorry...but I..."

"But you what?"

"I don't have anything to wear."

Christian couldn't almost help chuckling. Ha! That was all. Loreena couldn't go because she didn't have anything to wear.

"Perhaps I can fix that eh?" He winked at her, and she smiled back.

* * *

A clock chimmed 8:00 pm. It's sound brought an irregular feeling to Christian that was either of nervousness or strong anticipation and excitement. He never thought he'd ever be going back to the Moulin Rouge or even think about it, and strangely, with someone other than Satine. He stood in front of the mirror fixing his tie, and putting the finishing touches on his outfit. He had on a medium length tight black coat with a high collar, all lined with rhinestones, his pants and shoes were also black, but were kept plain. He had just bathed and was clean shaven. Now he was placing a tophat, also covered in rhinestones, atop his head. "I hope she likes it." he said aloud. He was thinking of Loreena. Before buttoning his coat, he fixed his vest which like his coat and top hat, sparkled. With some eyeliner, he outlined the bottom of his eyes so that their blue-green color really stood out. All together, he thought he looked as if he should be working at the Moulin Rouge, not just going to enjoy the entertainment, but nevertheless, he looked strikingly handsome and was surely going to be the best dressed gentleman there. 

Checking the time again he prepared set out on his way carrying with him his invitation and a single red rose. He was going to meet up with Loreena at the club. From his window he could see the Moulin Rouge radiating such a glow that it reflectedon theclouds above. Leaving the apartment building, he walked towards the glow, taking a peak upwards towards the sky. There were several breaks in the clouds above, and Christian could make out a full moon. He sighed, and thought, "Here goes."

The closer he got, the louder the thumping of music got to his ears. Crowds of people stood in line around the doors, anxiously awaiting their chance to get in. Already Christian could see the place was packed. The windmill above turned, while even further above in the sky, the flare of fireworks went off. The last bit of sunlight was setting lower into the sky whilethe sounds of Zidler's voice could be heard echoing as he shouted, "Welcome, welcome!" much like a ringleader of a circus. The air was filled with the scent of every perfume and cologne imaginable, but all together it gave a very inviting smell. Christian let it play with his senses, letting it guide him into the Moulin Rouge.


	15. Dancing A Waltz of Love

It was happening. This was the moment that Christian was leading himself into the wonder of which was the Moulin Rouge. The music pumped louder than ever, and as if in a dream, he floated into the entrance of it's facade with it's large doors mysteriously opening upon his arrival letting leak out, a light, so brilliant and so bright that Christian had to shut his eyes for a moment before he could open them again to see what was happening in front of him. He placed a hand over his face to help shut out some of the light, but he realized soon enough that a spotlight had been placed upon him and an enormous eruption of noise was ringing out from everyone in the room. He was being cheered on. They had all been waiting for him!

Christian weakly smiled, not expecting this kind of attention. Another spotlight turned on across the hall with Zidler shouting more welcomes and then a "And the Moulin Rouge is proud to present to you" Christian's ears were ringing and he just continued smiling, giving a slight wave. The sparkle of his clothing was adding a lot to the blindness he was experiencing, but after a few more moments, the spotlight moved off of him and back around to the rest of thehall giving Christian his full vision back.

What he saw in front of him was a picture of such chaos and madness that could never be believed. Everyone around him was in their own state of bliss, eitherdue toalcohol or just getting caught in the rush of the thrill. There was light everywhere and the gleam, shimmer, and sparkle of sequins, glitter, and diamonds. The Moulin Rouge looked very much like it had been put under a strange spell, a spell of erotic beauty, color, and magic. Christian would have never believed this had been possible again nearly a year ago when he had come here after Loreena, seeing the Moulin Rouge as a beat up dump. While on the thought of her, he remembered that she was to meet up with him shortly, so he scanned the painted and masked faces of the those around him. Nothing seemed familair.

He still stood, taking in the gripping imagary. He looked at the people, the polished floors, the newly painted walls, the ceiling which unlike the old Moulin Rouge, now had windows, allowing the flash of the fireworks outside to seep in. Christian noticed that part of the dancehall itself had been built partways outside, and many curious spectators were looking in to watch. In the very front of the hall, there was agigantic stagewhere a band roared giving the Moulin Rouge it's hypnotic beat. Dancers were scattered everywhere giving off a show to whoever wanted to watch. A waiter came up to Christian offering him a large glass of absinthe, and, taking it curtiously, gulped it down letting the sweet poison fill his neurons with a feeling of euphoria. More lights flickered causing a strobbing effect, and Christian gayly (as a result of the absinthe) joined into the crowd, becoming part of their insanity. A group of dancers gathered around him and he let them guide him across the floor. One dancer, dressed in something reminicent of a peacock took hold of his arm and pulled him away from the others. Another spotlight passed above him and he was once again incapable of seeing. He felt the flutter of glitter on his face from the acrobatic performers above who sprinkled the fine powder on the unsuspecting guests below. Pieces of it stuck to his eyelashes much like snow so that all he could see were the small bursts of light surrounding his eyes.

What he could make out was a grand staircase with a golden finish. He let his eyes gaze up towards the top few stairs, letting them focus onto something which he thought was vaguely familiar. He could see a twinkling figure of blue, with flowing wings, and wiping the glittery dust from his eyes, he was able to see it. See her. Loreena. He was certain it had to be. Loosing his breath, he felt this heart beat faster than ever before. He was completly speechless and motionless, watching the vibrant figure of sparkles glide down the stairs towards him. He could see she wore an eye mask, with her hair delicatly curled, partway up, partway down. He couldn't take his eyes of her. She twirled down the last few remaining stairs, her dress spinning out, shimmering as it flowed. Her incandescence was as enchanting as her smile. Her dark eyes lustered as she pulled of her mask, showing the complete beauty of her face. Christian was totally enthralled and captivated. Almost never before had he seen something so beautiful in his life as the woman that occupied the space within feet of him. He thought, no words could describe the things that flowed through his mind at that very moment. Reaching for her hand, he grasped it, leading her into a waltz that had just begun. Neither of them spoke for they felt the language given off by their bodies alone was enough communication. Spectators watched them dance, hitting every beat, perfectly completing every turn. Then, the others joined Christian and Loreena in their mesmorizing dance.

Christian's eyes were locked, undividedly fixed on Loreena, as were her's on his. The sleeveless straps of her gown flopped down her shoulders exposing a small amount of cleavage. He didn't really seem to notice being as he was so occupied by her face which was beaming with an expression of pure joy.

It was hard to believe that he had first thought of her to be so much younger than she really was upon their first meeting. At first, she had appeared no more than 15 or 16, but the girl that he held so firmly in his arms now was a woman, a woman who's allure was so gracious, holding ultimate perfection.

Christian couldn't speculate what he was thinking in his mind. It was almost like he was falling in love with her. He held Loreena tighter and continued to do so with every dance as the night went on. They were at eachother's side the whole time, Christian refusing to leave for even just a moment. As it was nearing midnight, the final dance started, another waltz. Christian held on evencloser to Loreena. She looked like an angel to him. Her silver costume wings swaying to the movement of their bodies. Around and around they spun, roating, revolving, whirling, letting the colors swim around them forming a bubble of crystilized pigmentation.

For Christian, time stopped. Everyone around him dissapated away into the air, and it was just him and Loreena. Like before in the meadow, their faces were within inches, and Christian knew what he had to do. A symphonic glassando of music was their soundtrack as his head went slightly forward, their lips coming together. Loreena's arms went around Christian's neck and he picked her up gently, letting her fall onto his mouth.

* * *

For a moment, he practically forgot about Satine, but never totally. It was after that critiacl moment the atmosphere changed dramatically, the bubble popped, the romantic story-likefantasycame to a hault. To Christian, it felt as if his entire universe was crashing down on him. His mouth burned with unbareable pain as he pulled away, becoming slightly dizzy. This was not happening, it couldn't be. He was falling in love. 

"No!" he screamed. "No!" He began to back away.

This feeling was far worse than the feeling he had felt with Loreena before. He knew why. He had brokenthe biggestpromise to himself, the promisethat he would not fall in love again. Not only that, but he had forgotten about Satine, which even though it was a brief period of time, was making him feel the most worst. "No" he muttered again into his hand. "No."

The clock dinged 12 am midnight, and the party still raged, but Christian had to leave. He had to escape. He was sufficating, slowly choking on his overbearing guilt and shame. Loreena tried to keep up with him, seeing that something was terribly wrong. Before exiting the way he had come in, Christian turned back around and faced Loreena. A shower of glitter was still falling from above, and even though Christian found himself picturing Loreena as a tiny angelic figure in a snowglobe, he had to do this. He had to say goodbye.

Cupping one of her hands, he kissed it, letting a small stream of tears flow from one of his eyes. All he could do was look at her and whisper, "I'm sorry." Then he ran out the doors.


	16. The Confession

The evening air was warm and humid on Christian's skin as he sat on his windowsill watching the Moulin Rouge. He was out of costume except for his slacks, undershirt and vest. In his hand he held the only picture of Satine he had, softly stroking the image on paper. He sighed, thinking about what he just gave up. Why was he forevor tormented this way? Why was his life so complicated and full of unwanted distortion? Perhaps he should just leave Montmartre.

He closed his eyes, reliving what had happened earlier, reliving the incrediable feeling he had felt for Loreena. Loreena. The sound of her name alone brought music to his ears. The image of her spinning in her dress replayed over and over in his head. The way she smiled at him, the way she floated down the staircase, the way her soft lips felt against his. He touched his bottom lip recounting every action before then. He didn't want to forget about that kiss, but then again, he did.

Trying to forget his worries, Christian began to quietly sing, of what no one could really tell, but it sounded somewhat melencholic and hauntingly beautiful at the same time. God he loved her, he thought. He really loved her. But had he always felt this way? Had he just never realized it until tonight? No matter what though, he thought it was too late. She would never know.

* * *

A half hour later, Christian still sat at the window, watching some lightning in the distance when a silhouette came out of the darkness of his own apartment and quietly stood nearby at the foot of his bed. He had just remembered that he had forgotten to lock his door, but Christian felt unthreatened simply because he already knew who it was. 

"Christian?"

He didn't reply right away. "Loreena, please...I'm a terrible person. I don't deserve to be your friend, you should have someone better." he said.

She sighed. "I think we're a little beyond being just friends, don't you?"

Christian kept himself from looking at her in the face. He said nothing. The silence was deafening.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Loreena's arms were poised in front of her, and she remained in a statue-like stance. She fiddled with one of her rings, a small globe filled with glitter, forcing herself to come up with a straight answer.

"I came here because...because I...wanted to tell you..." She stopped fearing what the outcome would be of what she was about to say next.

"I came here to tell you that... I love you."

Christian still remained motionless, but a million unspoken thoughts surged through his mind, racing at the speed of light. What was he going to do next? What should he do?

Loreena gasped. Christian could sense some frustration.

"Christian? Christian can't you hear me?" She was starting to break down. "Christian, I _love_ you. Is nothing all you can say?"

He gulped at the small lump in his throat."Do it." his conscious urged, "Tell her." But he couldn't bring himself to it. He could feel Satine pulling at him, and he couldn't stand the idea of having to give her up. Was he ready?

Loreena 's face was now covered in moisture, her eyes wet with heartache. She nodded her head comprehending the situation. It's what she believed true all along. Christian didn't want anything to do with her.

She turned around heading for the door. She was planning on never coming back again. Giving a final glance she couldn't help butsay one last thing.

"Christian," she started," I tried. I tried to not fall in love with you. I tried so hard because I knew you could never be capable of loving anyone else again, not after Satine." She paused to gather her wits. "I wanted you to feel for me what I was feeling for you so badly, I wanted you to love me, that was all. For months I've been keeping this to myself, having to live with this kind of unfathomable feeling of anguish and emotional torture. But you know, no matter how bad it got, I didn't tell you. I wouldn't tell you. I just couldn't. And you know why?" Her voice was cracking as she was trying to hold back. "I never told you because she still had you. Christian, all you ever wanted was Satine." another break. "And even though you had something here that wanted to give you what she couldn't anymore, you chose to hold onto something gone, something dead, when you could've had something that was alive and real."

She turned away whispering, "I love you so much." Christian finally glanced her way, but she couldn't see being as her back was turned to him. For the second time that night, seconds came to a standstill, and Christian was faced with a choice. His eyes followed Loreena's form slowly leaving his room, leaving his world, never to be seen again. At the same time, his mind flashed with illusions of Satine crying out to him to not do anything, to just let her walk away. But, there was a fault in these thoughts of his. Christian knew this. Satine was dead. He was still very much alive.

He could hear his own breath, his own heartbeat. He loved Satine, he always would, but she wasn't physically with him anymore, Loreena was. And he loved her. Closing his eyes, he spoke out loud in his mind, "Satine, I love you, but I'm sorry. Please forgive me someday." And just as if the world itself had been lifted off his shoulders, he was free. He could feel Satine leaving him, evaporating into the dark night sky.

Leaping off the sill, he extended his right hand out, clutching the hand of Loreena's that still remained within the boundries of his home. Her body was mostly out of the room, but he pulled her back in, closing the door behind her. Holding her by the shoulders, he looked her in the eyes and said, "I love you." She stared at him questionably, unsure of what to do next, but she soon realized she didn't have to know. Christian's lips were already locked with hers.

* * *

From that point on Christian forgot everything he ever knew or saw or heard of Satine. There was only Loreena. 

"Lora." he whispered in her ears. He pulled her over to the bed inviting her to sit next to him. A bit of moonlight peaked through a large gap in the clouds, streaming down upon them both. Christian took a hand and placed it under her fragile chin, leading it upward very much like she had done to him in the park. With the other hand he wiped away her salty tears, caressing her face and pulling it forward into another gentle kiss.

The moment was tense and they shared along, warm embrace. Loreena's head was on the other side of Christian's shoulder and she watched their shadows mingle on the walls. He could feel the soft tingle of her hands on his neck and back, and she felt one of his hands comb through her silky hair. She reached behind her head and pulled out the cord that had been holding it up. The locks slowly fell and a must of glitter sprinkled into the air settling onto the bed and floor. Christian lurched for another kiss. And then another, and another. The sweet nectareous taste of her mouth lefthim craving more.Yet, Loreena didn't mind giving into his advances. She knew what he wanted.

Christian lightly picked Loreena up so that she sat with a leg on either side of him. Their bodies were screaming for one another, but they both held back from rushing into anything too quickly. Loreena sat back a little ways as Christian, without even thinking, started to pull at the complex laces and strings of her dress. Her shoulder straps were once again falling down, and he bent down, first kissing her neck then gradually moving down to her breasts which were surfacing out the top of her dress and corset. Christian started to sensually kiss them as well lightly sucking ather firm nipples. Pulling her dress off to the floor, he started at work on the corset. Loreena could feel the area between her legs starting to prickle. Pealing the rest of the corset away, both of Loreena's voluptuous breasts were exposed. His hands went to her theighs, then up ever so carefully to tug at her underwear. Her hands were working at his vest, taking that off with ease and then moving onto his shirt. He helped her unbotton it himself throwing that too onto the floor along with the vest, corset, and dress. The moonlight disapeared behind a mountain of clouds and a bright flash caught Loreena off guard. It was only more lightning. Christian's hand directed her face back to his, asan arm grabbed hold of Loreena around the lower waist bringing her on top off him. She straddled his torso, covering his face with more incinerating pecks lining them down his chest as she tore off his cotten undershirt, exposing the freckled and slighly hair covered skin beneath. Loreena thought he looked thinner than usual, but that was the least thing from her mind. Her fingers were working at his belt, and she could feel him becoming aroused beneath her bare skin. His hand slid to her crotch as her body started to grind. Pulling his pants off, he sat back up so that he was now above her. Slinking down her body he let his mouth go to her moist opening as her legs wrapped around his upper buddy. She moaned softly reaching a small orgasm, her breath becoming heavy. The sounds of her sexual delight made Christian's body squirm. He wanted to take her right there, but not just yet.

His hands free, he held her arms down and let her legs still crossed slide down behind his back. The tip of his manhood tickled her, he was teasing her. She wrestled out from under him and he caught her again with his chest and genitalia pressed up against her backside. His hands slid down her firm breasts, down her stomach, down between her theighs. Her head rested back against his shoulder and she gasped. His tongue licked the side of her face and neck.

"Christian..." she uttered. She was ready. He whipped her around, letting her head fall on a soft cushion of pillows. Pulling off his boxers, he slowly he spread her legs and gave her a final kiss.

They're heartbeats were pounding in their chests. This was the pivital moment. Loreena's arms threw up around Christian's neck and into his back as he entered her, his firmness making her legs spread even wider. She yelped not in pain, but excitement. Skin against skin. Her legs locked as he started thrusting. Loreena caught onto the rhythm he set, her back following into the slow grind. His hands on her waistline holding her up level with him, throwing chills up into her spine. They began to sweat, the small beads sliding down their skin. With every force, Christian was letting out every ounce of his pain, his distress, his grief. Loreena started to moan louder, and grabbed hold of the sheets around for support as he hoisted her up getting into a better position to push into her harder. She was quietly yelling for more. He obliged.

He jerked harder and harder, pulling out and then letting Loreena rest on top of him, letting her body continue to steadily rock. They were moving faster and they knew they were both nearing their peak. Christian once again reversed positions, shoving Loreena's legs more upward driving even deeper into her. His hands went up to hers letting their fingers intertwine, the sheets bunching up. At the same exact moment, they gave a final hard jolted thrust, their organs coming in contact simultaneously. And then reachingan overwhelming and intense climax, they both panted, striving to take in air, finishing with a drawn out sigh.

Outside it bagan to rain, and they were both exhausted. Loreena moved to the side of Christian lying her head at his shoulder. He reached for a blanket to cover themselves up with. He swiped away some damp hair across her forehead and placed an arm around her. She snuggled closer. Shortly thereafter, they both fell asleep to the sound of eachother's heartbeats, watching the rain fall outside.


	17. Doomed

The summer was dwindling down, the leaves changing from a lush green to the vibrant colors familiar of fall. It was late September again in Montmartre.

So much had changed in Christian's life in the past month alone. After proclaiming his love for Loreena, she moved in with him. He couldn't have been more happier.

As far as Satine, she stopped visiting Christian in his dreams. He now slept peacefully every night next to his beloved Loreena. His mind hardly, if ever, wondered to the thought of Satine. He still kept the picture of her Zidler had given him, but only as a way to look back every now and again. His world completly revolved around Loreena andvery littleelse.

It was morning, the time about 8 am. Christian's eyes peeped open. Sunlight was streaming in across the bed. He looked over at Loreena who was curled up, still peacefully asleep. She was one of the few people he had ever seen who'd looked so absolutly beautiful just lying there, eyes closed, off in dreamland. A tiny smile came across his face. It had been about a year since he first met Loreena, since she first said hello scaring him half to death. The thought caused him to chuckle at himself.

Carefully rising from the bed, he pulled the sheet back up, making sure Loreena was covered. The wheels in his mind were already turning.

Since this was sort of an unofficial "anniversary", Christian had wanted to do something really special for Loreena. Dressing himself in the other room, he grabbed some money and was on his way. Perhaps if he hurried, he could get done what he had to do and return to Loreena as she was just waking up. He had a list of things he wanted to get done, all things for her. First, he wanted to stop by the flower shop and pick up the usuall bouqet of flowers he always got her. Then, he wanted to stop by the jewelers to pick up a necklace she had spoted in the window earlier that week. Christian also wanted to check with a popular French restaurant to make sure his reservations were intact for that evening. He had written her poem, his best yet, and he couldn't wait to recite it to her after their meal. Lastly, to finish the evening off, they were going to go to the Moulin Rouge for some late-night dancing. It was going to be splendid, she'd love it, he knew it.

Happily, Christian walked down the street, stopping by the flower shop, checking into the restaurant, going on his way to the jewelers. Townspeople passed his way, nodding here and there. Sunlight filled the streets. Everything seemed almost too perfect.

He turned down an alley way as a short cut to the jewelry shop. He began to whistle.

Suddenly, considering he had actually felt pretty good and full of energy, Christian's body began to feel as if it was heavily weighed down. He couldn't understand why he all of a sudden felt this way , but he was also having trouble breathing, his vision becoming hazy, his head dizzy. Getting increasingly disoriented by the second, he steadied himself by leaning against the side of a building. Something was terribly wrong. His chest ached, right near his lungs, and he started to violently cough. He needed help. He tried to yell out but no one replied or came. Falling to his knees, the coughing continued, Christian had no control over it. "Help..." he gasped. A warm metallic tasting liquid filled his mouth. He spat it out on the ground, seeing to his horror it was blood. "No." he muttered. He was loosing consciousness, fading into oblivion. As his head hit the cold pavement, the last thing he saw was the figure of someone sprinting towards him calling for help. Then darkness.

* * *

Christian was waking and could feel his body occupying an area of lightless space. A twing of panic flew through him and he didn't know what to do. He asked out, "Where am I?" but to only one around him, they heard it as nothing buta jumbled mess ofslurred words. 

"Shhh." said an unknown voice. The light was starting to seep in around Christian's eyes, the darkness retreating.

His sight was still fuzzy, but he was feeling a little better. His head pointed in the direction the voice had come from.

"Shhh...just relax...drink some of this." A disgusting sour liquid poured into Christian's mouth, and he still couldn't see who this unknown speaker was. Finally, after a few minutes, he saw that an elderly gentleman was sitting next to him with a damp cloth for placing on top of Christian's forehead. He knew who this man was. It was none other than the very same doctor who he had come to for help with Loreena, the same man who had taken her in and adopted her as his daughter. Christian must've been showing a rather strange expression for the doctor suddlenly paused and asked what was wrong. "Eh nothing." Christian lied. "Nothing at all." Did this man realize who Christian was? Did he remember him?

As if he could read his mind, the doctor spoke up saying, "Yes, I remember you. You're the gent that brought my little Loreena to me right? She's living with you now isn't she?"

Christian nodded even though there were a handful of other things he wanted to rather say instead. His eyes searched for a clock.

"It's about 8:30." He said. This was slightly bizzare.

"Wait! No!" Christian protested, taking the cloth off his forehead. "Sir, I have to go! Please, excuse me!"

Before he had the chance to get off the bed, the doctor gruffly held him down. "No, you're still weak.You should stay. I need to talk to you anyways."

"No, really, I feel much better. Please, whatever it is, can't it wait? I have to go."

"No, I _insist_ that you stay." The doctor gave Christian a grave look. "It's important. You should at least stay so I have a chance to tell you something. It's very serious."

Christian sat back down feeling the familiar pain in his chest, reminding of why he was here in the first place. The doctor took off his glasses.

"There's no easy way to say this, but...you're very sick." Christian already knew he had been for awhile.

"I know, it's probably from that small case of the flu I had. I've had this cough for months. It can be cured though right? He asked.

The doctor's face became even more shallow. "I don't think you get what I'm saying..."

Christian wasn't trying to be nieve, he was just playing it. He knew very well what the doctor's words were going to be even before the doctor himself knew how to say them. He didn't know what emotion to feel other than a sickening dread.

The doctor shook his head. "Christian...that's your name right?...Your case is very bad...chance of recovery is not promising...you are...you're probably going to die." Hearing these words was extremely heartwrenching. "You have teberculosus. Your lungs are filling with blood. Possibly you knew someone who had it and came in contact with?"

Christian didn't say anything at all. He understood.

"You have a few months, at most to live." Christian began to shake. He couldn't take it.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" he yelled. "Just..." but he didn't finish. He stood up noticing his coat on a chair by the door.

"Please, I insist! Stay here for at least the night! I'll reach Loreena and tell her where you are!"

Christian was horror stricken. "NO! DON'T!" She couldn't know of this. "Please, you haven't contacted her, have you?"

"No."

"All I ask of you, please,... don't tell her. I don't want her to know." The doctor followed him right to the door, still pleading with him to stay a while longer. Christian payed no attention. He was leaving. All he wanted was to see Loreena.

"But please! You shouldn't be up and about for at least a night! Get some rest!" Christian shoved the man out of his way.

The doctors words were fizzing into the night air. He couldn't bare to listen to them anymore. All he could hear in his own head was the same voice repeating over and over, "You're going to die. You're going to die. You're going to die..."

"No." He said.Christian couldn't accept this.

"You have a few months, at most to live. A few months. A few months..."

Covering his ears, Christian cowered into a deserted street corner sobbing. He had to get his anger out now so hecould be strong for Loreena later on.

* * *

It seemed that for hours Christian wandered the streets aimlessly looking for an answer. An answer to what, he didn't know. With his tears dry, he just walked in silence taking in the sights of the nightlife on the Paris streets. Around him, everything lived, everything breathed. He hated how his life would be cut short too soon. Life wasn't fair. 

A small boy cluelessly ran into him. He couldn't have been any older than 8.

"I'm sorry sir. I did not see you." And then he ran away. Christian watched as he ran, melting into the darkness. Like the boy, Christian's very own hopes and plans for the future were being consumed into shadow. A soft breeze blew tossing some papers into the wind.

The time was very late when Christian returned home. He opened the door to see Loreena sitting at the table, hands folded in front of her. She immidietly looked up.

"Christian?"

"Loreena."

"Christian,...where have you been all day? I didn't know where you were, I was worried sick." She rose to her feet, fleeing into his open arms. Her face sunk into him.

"Lora, I'm sorry... It's a long story." His expression was passive as he tightly hugged her. "I got caught up, that's all."


End file.
